Page 11 of Glasshouses

“She doesn’t have an alibi for last night apart from the cameras at the front and the back of the house.”

“And you don’t trust cameras.” He nodded at me, the tapping stopped.

“No. I don’t. There’s also a window at the side of the house which I bet I could get out of and she’s not much bigger than me. We’ll check whether the cameras would cover a route from that.” The pressure would be to find a connection between Lily Mayhew and the fire that killed her mother, because that would be tidy, but poor detective work and I was not about that.

“She’s not being ruled out on that basis.”

I shrugged. “We can’t. But even if there is a way out of the house that isn’t on camera, we wouldn’t have evidence that she used it, or that she was at the house – and her mother’s not the only victim. She could’ve been there by chance.”

“It’s a big coincidence. She survives one fire only to die in another nearly two decades later. I don’t believe in coincidences.” He pulled the door open. “I’m going to head back to the Fishbowl and type up the notes from today’s visit, then I’m going.”

“Enjoy. I’m heading to the morgue.”

“Lovely. I found which dentist Mike Mulligan was registered at and sent it over to Nate’s team. You never know, one mystery might be solved by the end of the day.” He slammed the door too hard, making the car shake slightly and headed off back to his cesspit of a vehicle.

I was at the morgue in less than twenty minutes, the traffic was light which meant my patience wasn’t further depleted. I walked straight into Vinny as soon as I fobbed open the door, neither of us paying any attention whatsoever.

“I always knew you’d fall into my arms one day.” He kept hold of me a little too long.

“Literally knocking me over is the only way that’s ever going to happen. How’s things?” I hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks; he’d been immersed in the operation around a drug deal gone wrong which had led to three rival gangs levelling up their beef, and a long running undercover op coming to a head.

“Yeah, busy. That was the PM from yesterday’s stabbing. He was nineteen.” He looked away from me, biting his tongue.

It was sensory seeking, the tongue biting, trying to give him something to distract himself else he’d break.

“Tough. But you’ll get the shits involved.”

He shook his head. “There’s every chance we’ll get one of the chiefs this time, that a couple of them will sing. But you cut off one head and another grows back, or even two.” His eyes were back on me. “One of them mentioned your dad’s name today.”

“Really? Did it happen to come with an address?”

“If only. It was a reference, nothing current. No one’s any clearer about where he might be than when he escaped.”

Stan Garrity had somehow managed to con his way out of prison. Every few weeks, the detective in charge checked in with me and Nate, giving us an update which was that there was no update. The case was a joint enterprise between us and Interpol, as it was suspected he’d left the country. I didn’t need to be a detective to tell them that Stan Garrity would be somewhere hot and sunny, with a new identity and all traces of how he’d got there buried.

“He’ll know what’s going on here and he won’t care.” There was no way he wouldn’t have a finger in the current turf wars, but it was well below his paygrade to be involved directly.

Vinny nodded. “It’s a shame he doesn’t want to help your career by giving you some insider tips.”

“Even he’s got more sense than that.” I really didn’t want to discuss my father. “Are you finishing now?”

“Fuck, no.” Vinny moved to lean against a post. “I’ve got two witnesses to interview, the sort where the sky’s purple with pink dots.”

“I’ll be thinking of you while I eat my take out.”

“You’re here to pick up take out? That’s a little grim, even for you.” The usual Vinny was back out now.

“Hilarious.”

“You know you can eat me anytime.” He gave me a wink that made me want to commit violence.

“You’d give me an upset stomach.” I shook my head, used to this from Vinny. We were the same rank and had worked together for probably too long. He was a comfortable pair of slippers most of the time and I knew exactly what to expect from him. “I need to go – Nate’s got the other vic in from the fire and there’s a good chance we’ll be able to ID him.”

Vinny’s expression changed to suitably serious. “Shit way to go that. Burned alive.”

“I’d rather drown.”

“I’d rather live forever.” He popped a piece of chewing gum in his mouth. “Drinks on Friday?”